Annabelle James

Thoughts On A Bowl - Poem by Annabelle James

A black hollow bowl,
The bowl...
Is my heart
I am a pioneer of pain
Nobody understands, nobody can see.
The pain that is, being me
The dogs no longer acknowledge me
With their solidarity bark
Because they know that I
Am dead inside
Within the hollow chambers of my tortured being
There lies no more a beating heart
Instead a lonely pack of 6AA batteries
That beat this fountain of wasted tears through my wasted body

Comments about Thoughts On A Bowl by Annabelle James

  • (5/5/2006 1:07:00 PM)

    Hey, anyone who can write wonderful images such as 'the pioneer' of pain can't be 'dead.' You're a poet. Now get busy and write another. (Report) Reply

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  • (5/5/2006 12:01:00 PM)

    Cheer up. thing will be fine. (Report) Reply

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Poem Submitted: Friday, May 5, 2006

Poem Edited: Sunday, April 8, 2007

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